The Colossal Cocoa Caper
by rogueinker
Summary: Disaster has struck! Albus' cocoa supply is being cut off. He formulates a plan to save his supply and just maybe salvage his "situation" with Minerva.
1. Default Chapter

****

The Colossal Cocoa Caper

by rogueinker

Disclaimer: All characters belong to JK Rowling. No infringement is intended or contemplated, ever.

Summary: Disaster has affected Dumbledore's supply of cocoa. No cocoa means no hot chocolate leading to one grumpy headmaster. He comes up with a plan that embroils all at Hogwarts and just may put his relationship with Minerva back on track.

Genre: Dry Off Kilter Humor (I try and hope and keep trying.). 

**_  


The Cocoa Vanishes

  
_**

The house elves were not happy. They milled about the main kitchen looking more dejected than usual. Many could be seen wringing their hands together and sighing deeply. Whenever one entered the main kitchen, their eyes were drawn to a small purple ceramic bell suspended on a wall. Below the bell was a small plaque that read "AD Hot Cocoa." 

On any normal day, the house elves coveted the chance to be of some service to the headmaster. The more fervent among them spent the majority of their time loitering in the main kitchens on the off chance that the bell would ring while they were present. But today was not a normal day. In fact it was so abnormal that the house elves did all they could to avoid lingering in the main kitchens. As soon as their task was done, their little feet would beat a hasty retreat to the exit. 

A group of elves huddled by the pantry as the head kitchen steward, Auchincloss, took inventory of a vital supply item - genuine criollo cacao beans from a family-owned farm in Ecuador. Criollo was the rarest of cocoa plants raised by less than fifteen percent of all cocoa growers in the world. Like wine, cocoa had a distinct flavor depending on the area of its growth. This was the headmaster's favorite variety due to its deep, rich taste and soothing natural aroma. 

Auchincloss shook his head. He told the others that there was only enough for seven more cups of hot cocoa. A collective shudder ricocheted from one to another among those gathered. They all knew that amount would only last at the most three days, barely. Dumbledore lived, loved and dreamt of hot cocoa. The more stress he was under the more cocoa he required. The last few days had been very stressful and there was no indication that things would be getting easier anytime soon.

Hogwarts' monthly shipment had yet to arrive. It usually arrived well before now.

Auchincloss made an executive decision. He would tell the headmaster about the cocoa situation. Because of that situation, the headmaster and staff had to reduce their intake. It was quite a logical and eminently practical decision. However, such news would not be received in a positive light and well he knew it. The headmaster paid handsomely for this culinary luxury out his own pocket. Said cocoa was delivered via muggle airplane all the way from Ecuador to Heathrow. Then a courier delivered the package to a London domicile maintained for this one specific purpose. A wizard caretaker was paid an exorbitant amount of money to house sit and wait for the package. The package was then owled to Hogwarts. Dumbledore naturally had first right to the cocoa and after that came the faculty and staff. Anything preventing that right from being exercised was not good news.

They had seen the headmaster angry at them only once. Once was more than enough. An elf had deviated from the traditional recipe by mistakenly using a half less teaspoon of cocoa in his cup. The result was deemed so horrific that the offending elf had been permanently placed on probation. He and only he had the responsibility for making the headmaster's cocoa for an entire month. At the end of the month, the poor elf was a mass of nervous tics, stammers and jerky nervous movements. The pressure day after day had been too much for the poor thing. At last report, Uby the Unfortunate, was still ensconsced in the magical creatures ward at St. Mungo's. The mere sight of a mug or cup would send Uby into incoherent hysterics.

All morning Auchincloss had been motivating himself to go to the headmaster. It was now mid afternoon and he had yet to leave the kitchens. By all reports, the headmaster was in a good mood. Auchincloss made his way to the exit. Thinking that he may not be able to return ever again from the headmaster's office, he turned around and looked wistfully at the place. He stored the images in his memory. He sighed and was about to leave when an owl flew in and dropped a small parcel covered with muggle post stamps. Heartfelt cheers came from the throats of over thirty elves. 

The headmaster's cocoa had arrived at last!

With trembling hands and an enormous grin of relief, Auchincloss opened the package. He began to lift out each large individual bag. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. There were only seven when there should have been ten! He counted and recounted three times. He turned the box upside down and shook it with all the strenght he possessed. A small piece of paper floated lazily down to the table. Auchincloss read the note and promptly fainted.

Dobby picked up the note and began to read out loud:

__

Mr. Dumbledore,

I truly regret to inform you that this is the last order from Doolittle - Corteza Cacao de Ecuador. The farm will be liquidating all assets due to a sudden plague slowly crippling our native criollo plants. This plague has been reported in all the cocoa growing regions of the world this past year. A cure has yet to be found so with deep regret we are dismantling our operations. 

We thank you for your long and loyal patronage and, of course, the gracious and extravagant Christmas presents.

Sincerely, 

Eliza D. Cortez.

Not a sound. Not a movement. The elves stood frozen in shock. A few elves kept counting and recounting the bags as if by doing so the missing three would magically appear. Several elves fanned the air around their fallen steward. 

Ding! Ding! Dong! As one they all turned at the sound. It was the dreaded bell. Albus Dumbledore wanted his tea time sugar fix.

The kitchen emptied fast. Elves tripped over themselves trying to get out first chittering about errands left undone or relatives that needed visiting immediately. After a few minutes only Dobby and the still unconscious Auchincloss remained.

__

What to do? Someone had to get the cocoa AND tell Dumbledore the latest news. _What to do? What to do?_

  


~*~

  


At precisely 4:17 pm on a Tuesday, a day and time that students would later dub as "The Day the Headmaster Lost It", several strange things happened in eerie sequence. Every fireplace in the castle erupted in purple flames followed by all the windows rattling ominously. Professors Snape and McGonagall as well as every other teacher said the same things: "No questions! Get under your desks now! Protect yourselves as best you can! Whatever happens hold on!" The teachers did not wait to see if their commands had been obeyed. They were too busy hiding themselves while invoking shield charms on their person and anything fragile or valuable in their vicinity. Hogwarts students were many things but none lacked the innate instinct of survival. They dove under their desks and none too soon.

The sound of wind began to be audible in the castle soft but insistent like steam escaping from a simmering teapot. The sound grew in intensity until the wind racing through the corridors reached hurricane strength. Windows blew outward. Pictures dropped and flew about. Their occupants clung tightly to their frames. Ghosts, objects, small animals, books, parchment, anything not tied down were blown everywhere in and out of the castle. House elves who had not fled at seeing the kitchen fires erupt purple tied themselves together and held on for dear life. Even the trees in the Forbidden Forest swayed under the onslaught of Albus Dumbledore's full wrath finally unleashed.

After an eternity but actually only ten minutes in real time, the tempest subsided. Anything that had blown out, blew back in again but not necessarily returning to their original positions or owners. Professor McGonagall was the first to gain her wits. She summoned Professor Snape through the fireplace. His unmistakeable visage appeared in the flames.

"What the hell did you do, Snape?!" The students, all Gryffindors as it happened, gaped at this rare display of vulgarity coming from their head of house. They were transfixed upon the drama playing out before them.

"This has nothing to do with me! I suggest you check your own conduct first." Snape replied calmly.

"Albus would never lose his temper like that over ... over a -. Don't you dare insinuate that -"

"Every man has his limits, Minerva, even Albus. You on the other hand -"

"You ... you ... unscrupulous, dastardly cad!" McGonagall lost control of her temper right then and there. A small vase on her desk splintered then exploded as her anger manifested itself. "Look what you made me do!"

"At least you managed some honest emotion that time." Snape smirked. 

"Too far, Snape! Quidditch pitch tonight. Bring your second."

Before Snape could reply to this challenge, the headmaster's serious voice boomed out over the entire castle. "All heads of houses to my office. No exceptions, no excuses, no notes from Poppy. You have three minutes starting now." The sound of a clock ticking echoed in the background.

The head of Gryffindor yelled "Class dismissed" then "Accio, broom." Ron and Harry gaped as Professor McGonagall's top-of- the-line, limited edition Nimbus Cyclone custom racing broom hovered in front of her. The broom handle sported her name in glowing gold lettering followed by the serial number '#1 of 1'. Figuratively throwing personal decorum to the wind, McGonagall hiked up her robe and skirt then mounted her broom. She raced off in a blur, robes and arms akimbo. 

"Merlin's innards! Where did she get the money to buy one of those things?" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione surveyed the wrecked classroom. "Something's made Dumbledore mad. This is really serious."

Harry bit his lower lip thinking of all he had witnessed. "Ron, you think she'd let us have a test ride?"

  


~*~

  


When Minerva landed smoothly in front of the headmaster's desk. She could see no one else about. She dismounted and put herself to rights.

"One minute and twenty seconds, my dear, I think that's your personal best so far." Albus looked at her from behind his massive desk.

"Don't you mean the new record, Albus?" Minerva preened. "Beats MY old record by ten seconds."

A darkly familiar voice intoned from behind her. "True, Minerva, but I had an elapsed time of exactly sixty seconds which gives me the new record. Thank you very much."

Minerva whirled to face Snape. She fairly snarled back at him. "How ... how did you get here before me?"

"Why bother asking when you know you won't like the answer whatever it may be." Snape retorted. He ignored the truly livid Gryffindor. He positioned a chair for himself and sat down.

Minerva glared menacingly back at him then took her usual seat closest to Dumbledore's desk. She studiously ignored Snape who kept his attentions focused on his tea.

Flitwick arrived zooming through the air on a comfortable leather chair before alighting gently in front of Albus' desk. "Time?"

"One minute and fifty seconds, Filius."

"Well, that last modification shaved quite a few seconds. Perhaps a more streamlined profile would be ideal. Prone position maybe." 

"Is the charm on the chair or on yourself?"

"Both, Albus. It's a new spell combining Locomotor and Wingardium Leviosa."

Professor Sprout glided in last. Under her feet, she stood on a narrow strip of wood that hovered inches from the floor. One could not call it a plank per se. It was curved and were those small wheels underneath?

"Two minutes and fifteen seconds exactly, Cera." Dumbledore said. 

"My best time yet. I wasn't even rushing." Sprout smiled.

Flitwick looked curiously at her conveyance. "What is that contraption?"

Sprout hefted the small beam she had been using. "One of my muggle borns showed me a picture of one of these. It's a skateboard. I just adapted it by adding a few vital charms, a pressure sensitive steering mechanism, automatic brakes and a throttle."

"Really!" Excitement caused Flitwick's voice to ascend an octave higher. "What's the speed range?"

"Theoretically, it's limited only by the tolerance of the rider. I've reached about 50 kilometers per hour." Sprout positioned a chair next to Flitwick. "I'm tweaking the brakes yet." 

Dumbledore walked to his desk and cleared his throat rather dramatically. Everyone sat up and put on their game faces. "I have an emergency situation on my hands which could have ... has catastrophic consequences. I am asking and requiring help from all of you."

"Of course, Albus, you need only ask." Minerva focused all her thoughts on Albus. _He looks so drawn and tired. Whatever it is, it's bad._ Her feud with Snape was put aside but not forgotten. _ I will deal with Severus later. Albus comes first._

"We are at your disposal as always." Flitwick piped up. _He looks like death warmed over. I hope I get a raise out of this. At least a nice bonus for my years of devoted service and all. _He took a sip of his coffee - black, extra strong.

"What is the problem exactly?" Snape asked coolly. _This is it. Voldemort is going down. Time to shine, boy. Mental note to order new dress robes off-black or dark gray with glittery silver trim down the sides._

"What do we have to do?" Sprout added. _He looks more worried than when the dementors were here. What could be worse than dementors? I hope he doesn't ramble on endlessly. Minerva may worship his every breath but I don't._

His eyes were missing their twinkle and they could almost swear his beard looked droopy. His earlier tantrum had bled all the anger out leaving him calmer if somewhat moody. He wailed, "My cocoa supply is being cut off! I only have a month's supply left!"

The enormity of the matter was not lost on any of them. No one messed around with Albus' hot cocoa. It was rule number one in the new employee's manual right before "Thou shalt graciously ingest and sincerely compliment any offerings made by the headmaster, especially his hot chocolate." 

"The Ministry is cutting it off?!" Minerva asked. "How could they? It's not even in the budget."

"I wish it were that simple. A world plague is decimating the cocoa plant varieties - especially the rare ecuadoran criollo cacao. My favorite." Albus sniffed. "It's the very, very best."

"Has a cure been found? Muggle plant genetics and research is quite advanced and -"

"The muggles don't care. They've known about this problem for a year and done nothing."

"Considering that almost half of cacao is raised in poor countries while almost all cocoa is consumed in more affluent countries, I would think that this would be a high priority." Flitwick thought out loud.

"I've done some preliminary research. They have cacao plants raised in controlled environments now. Chocolate farms they call them. They don't give a fig about those grown in the wild or in third world countries."

"Well, then, you can still get cocoa from Europe or America, Albus." Sprout suggested.

"Philistine!" Albus glowered at the head of Hufflepuff. "No appreciation for the nuances of climate, light and soil on the bean's true flavor. Domesticated cocoa is a pale imitation of the real thing. I will not live with fake cocoa! Will not. Will not. Will not." Albus banged his fists on his desk.

Something about the headmaster's current behavior brought back some unpleasant memories for all of them. In particular, McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout. The three teachers glanced at each other then all turned as one to gaze malevolently at the potions master. Snape stared straight ahead but his mind drifted back to the summer just before the start of his second year of teaching.

He had pulled a prank on the faculty whose consequences reached to this very day. Unbeknownst to him, one of the ingredients he used was too old. The aftereffects were manageable and the open warfare hurt no one but the teachers. The bad ingredient caused the unfortunate to become wildly allergic to cocoa, coffee, nicotine and dairy products for an entire month. Deprived of their monthly chocolate binges the ladies turned into harridans that would have made wild harpies proud. The caffeine and nicotine addicts fared no better. The house elves learned to turn a deaf ear to bribes and life-ending threats from the staff. Short tempers flared and mini-duels were the order of the day. 

The worst was Albus. Their dignified headmaster had in short order been reduced to a fidgety, fussy, foul-mouthed two year old. Coupled with his potent magical powers and a pathological cocoa dependency, the result was not pretty. Minerva was the only one brave enough to get near him. After an unusually trying few weeks, Minerva had had to resort to creative means to privately mollify and distract him. Of course the occasion also marked the beginnings of their relationship so Minerva didn't bare too much of a grudge. Albus had not been so forgiving. No one, not Grindelwald and Voldemort combined, had put him through such agony. Snape was punished appropriately. He owed Dumbledore a gigantic favor. That marker had been called when Dumbledore required him to turn spy once more and keep the Order appraised of Voldemort's plans.

Truly, anything done that badly affected the cocoa supply, garnered the harshest of penalties. This was made into a footnote for employee manual rule number one - Thou shalt not mess with the cocoa.

After a minute or two of silence. The headmaster stood up and beamed at his audience. "But I have a PLAN! We are going to raise my plants here. How many seeds will you need, Cera?"

"Albus, theoretically we can raise anything here. However, as you mentioned, flavor is governed much by the growing environment. Planting seeds will result in cocoa no better than the domesticated variety." Sprout explained. "We need a mature plant from which to start the rest from."

"Well then, simple! We get a whole, healthy plant from Ecuador and transplant here."

"Casually breaking several international treaties and customs laws every step of the way." Snape put in. "I might add that if said laws were not so stringent or so strenuously enforced, I would be growing my own ingredients here."

"Must you always be so negative, Severus?"

"I try to be the voice of reason when there is none to be had." Snape replied. _There that's stopped him cold._

Dumbledore looked at his colleagues under hooded eyes. _Am I not the most powerful wizard around, chief mugwump, headmaster, et cetera and so forth? Even so I will need all their considerable expertise to get what I want._ However, the plan WAS slightly illegal. Also it WAS extracurricular activity that none of them was contractually obligated to fulfill as it had no bearing on their teaching duties. _How to get their cooperation?_

Like any able general, Dumbledore turned the situation to his favor and employed a tried and true tactic. He decide to appeal to their vices and sense of self-interest. Dumbledore looked sorrowful as he addressed them again. "I realize this project is risky and would ask much of all of you in addition to your existing duties. I have no right to demand anything from any of you."

Flitwick breathed a sigh of relief. _Thank Merlin he's being reasonable about this._

"However, I have explained that this not a course of action that I can deny or refuse." The mulish look was back upon his face. The twinkle in his eyes were hard as diamond chips. "Therefore those who would aid me will be generously compensated. If it is within my power to grant, it shall be yours. You have my word. Any takers?"

__

The man has a counter for everything. Snape wasted no time. "Cash. In advance plus expenses. With allocation for future cost overruns. Ingredients will be expensive."

"You're a hard, hard man, Severus, but done."

"Open credit at Flourish and Blotts for one year." said Flitwick. "No restrictions on type, quantity or timing of purchases. No questions asked."

"Done. Credit will be established by the end of today."

"A working muggle television in my quarters. With satellite service and all the BBC channels." Sprout's eyes took on a faraway look. "I may finally see Coronation Street real time. And East Enders. And ... and The Young and the Restless."

"Done with one condition. You post episode summaries in the staff room." Dumbledore turned to look at his deputy. Dumbledore nibbled on his lower lip nervously. _This last one will be tricky. If she asks for ... no, she won't. But if she does, what do I do? Cocoa waits for no one. _ "Minerva, what will be the price of your cooperation?"

Minerva did not miss the uncertainty in his voice or the wording he employed. A recent impasse in their personal life was making both of them miserable, lonely and incredibly frustrated. All their conversations of late were stilted and awkward both parties afraid of saying the wrong thing for the wrong reasons. _Hmm, this cocoa fiasco may yet prove to be a blessing in disguise._ "I'd like to discuss my price in private, Albus."

__

This could be interesting. Albus straightened up a bit. "Very well, Minerva. After dinner, perhaps? Maybe start up the chess game again?"

"That would be fine, Albus."

"I thank you all from the bottom of my heart."

"Albus, the Ministry knows nothing about this or the potential use of school property, do they?" Snape asked.

Dumbledore shifted his feet. "This is a strictly private project. The utmost secrecy must be maintained at all times."

"And if anyone starts asking awkward questions?" 

Dumbledore smiled beatifically. "We'll be finished before anyone takes any notice. Everything will work out. You'll see."

  


***

  


A/N: Thoughts anyone? The idea for this fic was a vision of Dumbledore hugging a box of hot cocoa in his arms while sleeping. I believe a deadline-defying, self-induced caffeine overdose coupled with an all-nighter setting up servers was the culprit. Too much stress definitely doing things to my mind. 


	2. The Scent of Chocolate

**  


Chapter Two

  
_  


The Scent of Chocolate

  
_**

The next morning just before lunch time Harry, Ron, Hermione and the rest of the Gryffindors filed out of Professor Flitwick's classroom. Flitwick himself stood outside of the open door answering last minute questions. Albus Dumbledore passed them by gliding in that quietly unstoppable way he had. Several students, including Harry, said their greetings to the headmaster. Dumbledore waved a hand in the air absentmindedly and kept on walking and walking and walking. Their eyes followed his progress down the hallway.

"Professor! Professor!" the students shouted as one. "Professor Dumbledore! Sir!"

"Albus!" Flitwick flailed his arms trying to get Dumbledore's attention. He lifted his wand and shot a few streaks of light towards his old friend. "Stop! Not again. Albus!"

Several students began to run after the headmaster. Girding up his own courage, Sir Nicholas raced past the panting students his neck ruffles bobbing furiously. "Headmaster, desist immediately! Madam Pomfrey will not be pleased to see you again this morning. 

Portraits along the wall tried to get his attention too. "Sir! Oh, sir! Headmaster !" Several attempted to shoot arrows or throw their blades at the passing wizard. Animals barked, neighed, roared, hissed and crowed at him. 

Several teachers on their way to lunch saw what was happening and added their own voices to the mix. Professors Snape and Sprout, approaching from a cross corridor with an open view of what was transpiring, watched as Dumbledore receded further away from them down the hallway. Looking ahead and seeing the likely outcome of the headmaster's actions, Snape considered his options carefully. _To imperio or not to imperio. Could I get away with it?_

"Severus, do something before it's too late." hissed Professor Sprout.

"I am thinking." _Sometimes the best strategy is to do nothing at all._

"Think faster." Sprout covered her eyes with her hands. "Oh, I can't watch."

No one could say that all their combined efforts were not valiant and heartfelt. They had tried but ever since the headmaster had left breakfast this morning he had been off in his own little world. The cachophony of voices in the hallway reached a shrieking crescendo as they all said in unison. "Professor! Watch out for that wall!"

  


~*~

  


As Professor Sprout gently but firmly led the disoriented headmaster and his broken nose to the infirmary for the third time that day, the heads of Ravenclaw and Slytherin pondered on the current state of Albus and Minerva's love life.

"The man's a wreck." Flitwick shook his head. "He hardly knows his left foot from his right. I've never seen him so distracted."

"Marriage is a big step. Being practically blackmailed into it has to be a shock." Snape observed.

"Marriage opens one's eyes not the other way around, Severus. Besides, I know Albus was contemplating the issue seriously even before this cocoa business. It cannot have been that much of a shock."

"He was?" Snape tapped his chin. This new piece of information went against all conventional gossip. Not that he was a gossip. He simply preferred to stay well informed. "I thought they were estranged due to his inability to commit further."

Flitwick began to walk back to his own classroom with Severus beside him. "That's not what I heard. I am beginning to suspect that our assumptions regarding what Minerva has asked for are wrong."

"What else could the woman want except to have the right to tack 'Dumbledore' after her oh-so-carefully hypenated name whether in secret or not?"

"Severus, have you ever been able to understand how a woman's mind works, any woman's?"

"I concede your point."

"Now shall we discuss more tangible topics than those that inhabit a woman's mind? I have some ideas on the transport of our special project that I would like your thoughts on."

"Can we discuss this at lunch?"

"Certainly." With that the two professors parted ways heading for their respective classrooms.

  


~*~

  


The reason for Dumbledore's current state and the object of the professors' conjecture was sitting quietly in her office. She looked out the window occasionally then returned her attention to the papers she was marking. She had heard about Albus' goings on about the castle that day. It was the main topic of conversation among the students and gossip for the teachers. She sighed. As far as she was concerned nothing had changed today. Their talk last night had been long overdue but things between them remained as they had always been. Unresolved.

No, the moment that did change her life occurred many years ago. Minerva put her quill down, stretched her arms wide and smiled sweetly at the memory.

  


~*~

  


As one of the few people in the castle that was spared from Snape's prank, Minerva was stuck helping Poppy. Every day she defused short tempered duels, consoled weeping women pining away for chocolate or held them at bay as she confiscated their hidden hoards. Now, she was undertaking the worst of the lot - an argumentative, difficult, manipulative and depressed Albus Dumbledore. She had been the one to make sure he had no cocoa or chocolate hidden in his room or office or on his person. It was to her that the house elves ran to whenever Dumbledore's demands went beyond reason. It was she who bore the brunt of his volatile temper week after week. And it was she who visited him five times a day, took every meal with him and generally kept him amused.

One glance into his bedroom was all Minerva needed to gauge Albus' probable mood. The drapes were drawn tightly shut against the bright afternoon sun. A tall untidy stack of books sat atop his bedside table. _At least he took my suggestion and tried to read a few books._ The room hadn't yet been cleaned as Albus had scared away all the house elves. "Albus, you're behaving abominably! They just want to do their jobs." 

The owner lay on his bed buried under blankets. The tip of his beard peeped out from under the edge of a snitch imprinted blanket. His voice was muffled but clear. "A thimble full of cocoa and I shall ask for nothing more." 

"You know very well that I can't do that. One drop and your glands will swell up, your blood vessels will constrict while your lungs will barely function." Minerva took off her heavy outer robe as she went towards the lone armchair in the room. "When Snape does a prank he does not spare his victims an easy escape."

"Am I not already suffering, woman? Migraines, light-headedness and hallucinations. What's a little blood constriction after all that." Albus rolled over onto his stomach one arm hanging limply over the side of the bed. "And I am more than amenable to breathing through a straw if I have to!" 

"At your age, full body blood constriction could kill you." Minerva sighed as she set herself down on an armchair facing the bed. _Women suffer every single month with much less complaint and more cause. Let's not fool ourselves, men are definitely the weaker sex._

"You do not feel my suffering. I can't sleep. I feel nauseous all the time. I can barely think of anything but what YOU are denying me."

"Albus, it's only been two weeks. Exercise some will power. You of all people need to serve as an example. Instead you sit in here sulking hour after hour, day after day."

Albus rolled over on his back and stared at the canopy for a long minute. "I admit to my weaknesses in their entirety. I simply am not possessed of the same strength of character as you are. There, happy now?" 

"Your world will not end without hot cocoa. Stop acting like it will. It's just cocoa!"

Albus lazily turned on his side facing her. "This from the woman who practically buys out Honeydukes every three months." 

"It's not just for me! I do share with the other girls."

Albus rolled off the bed in one smooth motion. As he talked he started towards her. "There are bars and bars of chocolate in the cupboard in your office." 

"For medicinal and emergency use only." Her eyes followed his approach as he came closer and closer much like a predator stalking a potential meal. Albus' eyes glinted dangerously. _Why do I not like that look? _"Sometimes one of my house has a craving and hasn't had time to buy any for herself."

Albus kneeled in front of her. His palms rested on her knees. The tip of his long beard grazed her lap. His earnest face only inches from her own, invading her personal space. "My dearest Minerva, have I ever expressed my utter admiration, devotion and -"

"Save it, Albus. Poppy confiscated the lot." Minerva fidgeted in her seat. They were so very close. "She makes the Gestapo look sloppy. She even found Flitwick's stash of Joobiloo's Jumping Java beans. I didn't think he could hang onto her leg that long or that tightly."

"Knowing how he feels about his coffee, I'm surprised he didn't gnaw her leg off." Albus pulled back a little. He didn't remove his hands from her person though. His fingers began drumming slowly. 

His fingers triggered sharp pulses of pleasurable sensations all over her. _When was my last date? It can't have been that long ago. _ "She ... she threatened to give him rabies shots the old fashioned way if he so much as opened his mouth."

Albus winced. After a few moments he leaned forward once more closing the distance between them. He gripped her knees with a little more pressure. "Wait. Cocoa comes from a plant, doesn't it? Maybe Cera has some growing somewhere." 

__

Bloody inconvenient hormones! She looked somewhere over his shoulder avoiding his eyes at all cost. "I asked her about that last week. I quote 'The cacao plant like like coffee is in- indigenous to tropical areas and does not thrive in northern climates.' end of quote." 

"So-" His hands relaxed their grip. Instead his hands slid an inch or two upwards resting on the outside of her thighs.

She held up a hand to forestall his next question. They were so close that her hand landed on his chest and stayed there. She could feel his heart beating. _He's just a man. The only man you've gotten THIS close to in how long? _Her voice came out rather breathy. "Had ... had her sister in Africa owl her some seeds. Poppy got to ... to them before she did."

"Minerva, I smell chocolate." Albus sniffed the air once or twice. Albus leaned in close to her neck. "On you."

"Oh that, I was helping Poppy on her contraband hunt earlier today. You won't believe how creative some people get hiding their oh, what are you doing with my, ah ... Albus?" Her words faded into incoherence. After all what woman could think straight when a man was nibbling and licking her neck and earlobes. 

"Mmmm. Mint chocolate with a hint of chocolate liquer." Albus hands wound themselves around her waist pulling her to the edge of her seat. He switched to the other side of her neck. "The mint is stronger on this side."

Albus licked a trail on the nape of her neck. "You said you were helping her?" 

"Yes." Minerva leaned her head back and to the side to give him better access. "Some were booby- trapped. Hooch's stash accidentally exploded. There was chocolate powder everywhere."

"I taste a little vanilla here." Albus made his way around her to the back of her neck. "Good combination. Vanilla and, if I'm not mistaken, pure unadulterated Godiva chocolate powder. Heavenly!"

"Albus, Albus," Minerva said between gasps. No answer just a snuffling sound and a tug at her right ear. "We can't do this. This must go no further."

"Why not?"

"Your allergy! It could have been triggered." Minerva pulled herself away. She grasped Albus' face in her hands checking his face for telltale signs of the allergy's effect. "Your pupils are dilated and your breath rate is high."

"I can assure you that is not from any allergy."

"I am not taking any chances. We'll wait a few minutes and see if the symptoms become worse." Minerva pointed at the bed. "You sit over there."

Albus did not budge. "Now, Minerva, how can you see the symptoms if I sit that far away from you?"

"True." Minerva suddently stood up. "All right then. You ... you sit here in this chair while I tidy up some."

Albus took her seat. For some minutes he eyed Minerva closely as she moved gracefully about the room. Minerva avoided looking in his direction entirely. Slowly her heart rate slowed as she immersed her thoughts in the mundane details of cleaning and organizing. He waited until she began to fix his bed. She had her back turned to him untangling his blankets and fluffing his pillows. Albus came up from behind her turning her in his arms to face him.

"I think it's time you checked out my symptoms. I believe they're getting worse." Albus locked his fingers behind her not letting her escape. "It might be catching."

Minerva looked into his eyes. The invitation in those eyes was unmistakeable. "It might. Maybe a retest is in order."

"Fantastic idea!" Albus dipped his head again and breathed in her scent. His lips traced a heated path on her neck. 

As she felt his hands travel lower down her body, she came to her senses. She wrenched herself from his embrace. "We cannot stand here and neck like two teenagers."

"In my day we called it nuzzling."

"Whatever." Minerva ran atop and across his wide bed to stand facing him on the other side. _Office romances always go sour._ "We are two grown adults, colleagues, who have no business doing this sort of thing. Besides you're not yourself. You're ill."

"What if I promise to sniff and not lick." He walked around the fooboard and towards her.

"Albus!" She made the mistake of looking at him. His eyes held her frozen and wanting as he got closer still.

"I'll not go past your neck." 

"Albus!" 

"We'll keep our clothes on." 

"Albus!" 

Several hours later a very tired Minerva McGonagall said three words to the man lying next to her. "You lied ... several times."

"Guilty as charged." Albus murmured pulling up the covers over their sated bodies. He brushed strands of her dark hair away from her face then kissed her bared shoulder. He wrapped an arm around and whispered. "You're better than hot cocoa, Minerva. I feel ten times better already."

  


~*~

  


Back in the present day, Albus came fully into Minerva's office and closed the door behind him. Albus watched her face. He knew every nuance of her expressive face. After all these years he knew her better than he knew himself. But still she had surprised him as she did last night. He had asked for some time to think about her price and now that time was spent. Minerva stood and faced him.

"I don't think this one could take on another wall." She ran a finger gently over the outline of his nose. Have you come to a decision? Will you pay my price or not?"

"It will be difficult."

"Nothing worthwhile is ever easy."

"This is truly what you want, Minerva?"

"When we married in secret did we not promise to grow old together?" Minerva wound her arms around his neck. "I need your help to keep that promise."

"Very well. I will contact Flamel and start preparing for a new sorcerer's stone to be made." Albus kissed her softly. "You asked for a hundred years together and that is what you shall have, my love."

"Thank you,. Albus." She returned his kiss. "I love you."

"Do you want children?"

"If we are blessed with them, yes."

"We'll have to tell people of our marriage."

"What and spoil all the fun the staff has talking about us?" Minerva laughed out loud.

"Too true. With all that is going on a bit of fun is not amiss. I suppose I do enjoy playing the wily bachelor while you -" 

"Don't say it, Albus!" She aimed a mock glare at him.

Albus raised her hand and kissed it. "You are the Lady of my heart. You shall have your wish, milady, and I shall have my cocoa."

  


~*~

  


Author's Note: Well, what do you think about Minerva's price? 

I ran the gamut of possibilities but the thought of their age difference kept cropping up so I went this way. Hard to top the first chapter but I hope this chapter was entertaining in its own way. 

Enjoy!


	3. Of Wary Expectations

**  


Chapter 3

  
_  


Of Wary Expectations

  
_**

A week later, an unusual messenger flew into the hall just after breakfast mail delivery. A palpable wave of curiousity swept across the hall. People eyed the messenger because it was, interestingly enough, not an owl but a raven. It was no common raven, either. Its wings were of the darkest night spanning wider than any known species of raven; bigger than a hawk but smaller than a grown eagle. It flew downwards in ever narrowing circular arcs until it landed in front of the headmaster. 

With great dignity, wizard and bird regarded each other. With a soft "Caw", the raven bowed its beak and raised its left claw. Held in place by a thin red and black ribbon, was a miniaturized parchment. Dumbledore removed the letter with deft fingers. Quickly he enlarged it to its normal size. He glanced only briefly at the note's seal. By the raven alone, he knew that this could be from none other than Nicholas Flamel. 

Next to him Minerva looked on. A small half smile played upon her lips as she too recognized the bird and its owner. To Dumbledore's left, Professor Flitwick craned his neck not bothering to hide his interest. He, too, recognized the bird. The rest of the staff tried their best to look uninterested but their subtle gazes were poorly disguised. Every eye and ear at the high table was trained on the headmaster and his unusual visitor. The students did not bother with subtlety. They were gazing avidly at the headmaster. All mealtime conversations were forgotten.

Albus unrolled the parchment further. The end rolled past his chin, his chest, the end of his beard and finally scraped lightly upon the floor. The headmaster's eyes skimmed quickly down the parchment's long expanse. A few times he cleared his throat loudly or nodded his head. He emitted a few choice utterances of "I see.", "Hmm, definitely needed." and "Not too bad." He was midway through when he suddenly stood up and exclaimed. "Egads! He has GOT to be kidding!"

"It's unreasonable!" He waved the parchment in the air dramatically before handing the offending missive to Minerva pointing at the item in question. "Have a look!"

She peered at it intently before replying in a tone and volume for his ears alone. "Albus, it very clearly states that in order to insure purity and potency, one must -"

"No! No!" Dumbledore punched the table with one fist. Student and staff gasped as one. "I categorically refuse to ... to entertain that notion!"

"But, Albus, really if he says that it's required then it's required." 

"I don't remember that being in the original recipe. It's too much to ask!"

"You did something similar once before."

"I had substantially sufficient distractions if you recall." Dumbledore waggled an eyebrow at his deputy. "Are you volunteering to -"

"Be that as it may." Minerva quickly interrupted him. She kept her head bowed hoping fervently that no one noticed the slight blush coloring her cheeks. "It might just be an enhancement not a core requirement. Let's look at the rest shall we?" 

Albus glowered darkly as he moved to look over McGonagall's shoulder. Together they perused the list once more. Around them several staff members eyed each other. Eyebrows were universally upraised and many heads were angled in the direction of the oblivious couple. And why not? 

In his agitation, Dumbledore had forgotten to behave circumspectly around his deputy. While he stood behind her, his left hand rested familiarly on her shoulder. There his hand stayed. With one hand on the table supporting his weight, Dumbledore bowed over the back of Minerva's chair. Their faces were set so close they seemed almost to be touching. Her elbow touched the long fall of his beard whenever she shifted the parchment. Their bodies leaned towards each quite naturally. The tableau they presented was quite innocent seeming as two people, old friends, reading over the same list. But their low tones and body language bespoke of an intimacy and rapport that had long ago been established. 

The next exclamation did not come from the headmaster. Instead, Minerva began to roll the long parchment with sharp, jerky motions while she talked. "He's daft! Absolutely daft!"

Dumbledore straightened up and looked down on her. "Hmm, I must admit to some curiosity as to how one would go about fulfilling requirement, what was it, sixty-nine?" 

"Hush, Albus." Minerva retied the ribbon about the parchment then promptly shrunk it down again. She deposited it in a pocket.

"Unwilling to rise to the occasion, my dear?" 

The head of Gryffindor stood up with almost feline grace. She looked up at him. "Bait someone else. I'm not biting."

"Pity." Dumbledore crossed his arms. His eyes and expression dared her to respond. "I always thought that you were one of those individuals that perform best under stress."

Minerva's eyes glittered with some indecipherable emotion. She moved closer to Albus and placed a hand on his shoulder. She leaned into him and whispered into his ear. Whatever was said, it left the headmaster red-faced and coughing furiously. Without a backward glance, Professor McGonagall sailed out of the side doors head held high and backbone stiff as a ramrod. 

The headmaster followed in her wake. He was heard to say. "Can you clarify that ... that course of action in more detail, Professor McGonagall? In ... in my office, perhaps? Right now?"

She was heard to reply. "As you are so fond of saying, headmaster, good things come to those who wait. Have a good day!"

The staff gossiped endlessly about the two of them throughout the day. That in itself wasn't unusual. What was unusual was the headmaster taking a nap in the middle of the afternoon that day. 

  


~*~

  


There were unusual things afoot at Hogwarts, at least more than usual. This was the observation that Madam Pomfrey pondered as she looked over her notes one more time. She took her position seriously and her responsibilities deadly seriously. After all, she was entrusted with ensuring the continued good health of staff and students at the most prestigious magical school in the known world. Her job was not made any easier by the fact that the school attracted the best of the best. In other words, she had in her charge the most neuroses-laden group of people anyone could imagine. Gifted people were rarely normal, always eccentric and occasionally insane - witches and wizards more so.

She stood up from her desk and looked out the window. _There's something going on. I can feel it. But what?_

Her network of informers, er, helpers, had added to her puzzlement. There were reports of abnormal teacher behavior. She had observed the suspects at lunch today. Aside from Albus and Minerva's unexplained display this morning, none of the other house heads had exhibited behavior outside of the norm. In fact, they all seemed unusually cheerful, even Snape. _Now that begs investigation!_

She pulled a lenght of parchment from a drawer. After a few minutes of deep thinking, she began to write. She muttered to herself under her breath a few times. "How long? Too long and they'll get skittish. Hmm." 

A few minutes later she left her office headed for the staff room. Her every step was firm and purposeful. She had a near sacred duty to carry out and nothing was going to stand in her way. Peeves, ever the spotter of mischief, floated behind her. He waved his arms about and strains of Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries wafted down the corridor and through the school.

  


~*~

  


Inside their classrooms, the teachers' ears perked up. The song was familiar, too familiar. A few touched their hearts and collapsed into their chairs. The heads of houses, in other words those less inclined to panic, did a few diagnostic spells on themselves. Their classes were all but forgotten as the music reached a towering crescendo and continued on.

Professor McGonagall looked at her timepiece. The music lasting longer than usual did not bode well. As the music finally ended, she called out to Professor Flitwick's classroom. "Go find out what she's -"

"Send me in when she's in full froth?" Flitwick squeaked. Even through the flames one could see how pale he had gotten.

"It is your turn, Filius."

"That music was over two minutes long! I may be old but suicidal I am not!" Flitwick huffed. "Send Severus. She seems to have a soft spot for him."

Speaking of the head of Slytherin, his face appeared in the flames. "I heard that!"

"Do you deny it?" asked Flitwick shrilly. "You get the most coddling and the most excuses!"

"My classes are ten times more dangerous than yours. Do YOU have to pay for potion malpractice insurance?"

"I will have you know that my malenchantment insurance record is spotless." Flitwick preened. "Gringotts loves me."

Snape muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "Birds of a feather ..."

"You're covered under the terms of hazardous duty, so you go find out, Severus."

"I have reached my quota for the month. I opted for the reverse deductible so any further treatment comes out of my pocket. I am unwilling to chance anything as she doesn't sound to be in an agreeable mood."

"Well, I do see your point, premenopausal females can get dangerous when cornered." Flitwick added. "Minerva, you go talk to her."

"Are you insinuating that I'm -"

"Of course not! I wasn't saying that, was I?" Flitwick backtracked skillfully modulating his voice to a soothing tone. "Severus, did I imply anything of the kind? I would never!"

Further conversation was cut off as McGonagall spied Peeves drifting just outside of the Transfiguration classroom. McGonagall ended the fireplace chat. As ghosts and Peeves were not allowed inside the classrooms, she went out to see what he wanted. 

"Well?" She asked remaining as calm as possible. In a weak moment, Albus had admitted that he had recruited Peeves into the cocoa caper team. What Peeves' price was, she could only guess at. Albus steadfastly refused to say what it was even to her.

Peeves cackled. "She-who-must-not-be-crossed is in the staff room."

"What does she want this time?"

"She was most decisive and ..."

Minerva sighed. The only way to deal with Peeves was directly. "What was she doing in the staff room?"

"Hanging something. I left to let you know, professor deputy ma'am."

"I see. Thank you, Peeves."

Peeves clasped his hands together and looked earnestly back at her. If she didn't know any better, Minerva would have sworn he seemed almost shy. "You will tell the headmaster about ... about ... that I helped, yes?"

"Yes, I will." At that the poltergeist skipped off down the hallway. 

__

Whatever Albus promised him, I don't want to know. Minerva headed back into her classroom. They would all soon find out what Madam Pomfrey's new mandate was.

  


~*~

  


Madam Pomfrey drifted back to her office. She asked a house elf to serve some tea. _Might as well relax a bit. They'll be coming after classes end. I wonder how many ways they will think to get out of it. Brilliant idea if I do say so myself._

While she waited for tea, she opened a drawer and unrolled her latest chapter scroll. She copied the same message she had affixed to the staff room announcement board. The chapter was the latest in her ongoing serial column for Mediwizardly Monthly. This month's column was to be titled "Fear - How to Use It and Keep It."

  


~*~

  


In the staff room's announcement board a simply worded missive was posted. 

To: Headmaster, Faculty and Staff 

Fr: Madam Pomfrey

I will be conducting full physicals in five days. You all know the procedure so PREPARE yourselves. You are all adults and I expect you all to act accordingly. 

Additionally, the Ministry has announced that a new strain of Magical Influenza is making the rounds this year. The strain is quite potent so this year's expected side effects will be more extensive. A full suite of innoculations will be administered during each physical.

Any questions, please see me in my office today.


	4. Love,Addictions and the Pursuit of Happi...

**Chapter Four**

**Love,Addictions and the Pursuit of Happiness**

The magical calculator spat out the paper tape at an alarmingly fast rate. Figures with far too many digits before the decimal point sprang up regularly along the tape's length. Those beyond the tolerably normal level of fifty galleons glowed crimson. Along the coils of paper curled on the floor, the red points twinkled innocently. There were so many points that they marked the tape as stripes on snakeskin.

The young goblin sitting high at his desk peered down at the tape with an expression that could only be described as rapturous. He slid off his tall stool, scooped up the tape in his arms and marched confidently into his superior's office with head held high and eyes shining brightly. The tips of the youngster's ears twitched left and right. So excited was he that he altogether forgot to cover his ears before anyone noticed his shameful lack of control.

Ear twitching was reserved only for private moments like mating rituals, death rites and other life altering events. Public displays of twitching, commonly referred to as PDT, were frowned upon by the elders. Certainly, it had no place whatsoever in business. However, there are exceptions to everything. In the case of a Gringotts-bred goblin, the mere hint of financial irregularity was reason enough to overlook PDT violations, especially in the young and inexperienced.

Irregular was the best word for all the recent activity in Headmaster Dumbledore's account. The young goblin had been quite proud of being given the honor of overseeing the great wizard's personal accounts. Him, a mere intern of only a few months!

As he made his way through the labyrinthine corridors to the office of the Chief Audit Inspector, ignoring the disapproving looks his ears were garnering, several happy thoughts bubbled in his mind - embezzlement, forgery, fraud, blackmail. The possibilities were legion. Someone was taking advantage of the great wizard of that he was most certain. And he, Beancatcher the Fourth, was just the goblin to ferret out the answers!

* * *

Gringotts was the furthest thing from Albus Dumbledore's mind at midday. His attention and concentration was reserved for the mug full of steaming hot cocoa sitting on his desk. He leaned into the rising steam and inhaled the heavenly scent. "Ah! Perfection." he murmurred. 

As part of rationing his current cocoa supply to last as long as possible, he had had to accept some sacrifices. The cup of ambrosia in front of him was the only full cup he was allowed during the day. At night, he had to content himself with half a mug. Only the thought that this self-inflicted torment was soon to end sustained his flagging spirits.

He sipped. He closed his eyes as he savoured the sweet richness enveloping his tongue. It was in this trancelike state that Minerva found him a few minutes later. She leaned over him and touched her lips to his. She pulled back as he began to respond. Minerva sat down on the edge of his desk and smiled. "Now that I have your attention, headmaster."

"My attention, my heart, my very breath." Albus responded.

"How are you holding up?"

"Let me come for a visit tonight and you can have your answer then." Albus teased.

"Not until after our physicals tomorrow. Neither one of us can afford any detectable muscle strains."

"Perhaps, it is time to confide in Poppy, Minerva."

"I thought you enjoyed all the secrecy."

"I do, but not at the expense of my, I mean, our conjugal rights."

"Abstinence is not a bad thing."

"I suppose one more night won't hurt much. Another cold, lonely, dreary and sleepless night."

"A fortnight, Albus."

"What?"

Minerva stroked his dear face. "It's requirement number fifty-four on Nicholas' list - absolute abstinence for two continous weeks. The sooner we start on the requirements, the sooner we can prepare a stone."

"But ... but ... but ..." Albus spluttered on. "Total abstinence?"

"That is the requirement."

"We'll see about that," Albus stood up and gathered her in his arms. His lips melded with hers in a passionate kiss. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. He nuzzled her throat and nibbled on her ears. His busy hands removed her robes. His hands roamed down her back and lower. Lower. Then lower still. Until his questing fingers encountered the unexpected. "This isn't happening is it?"

"I had to resort to drastic measures."

"I see." Albus wrapped his arms around her.

"Two weeks is such a long time," Minerva rested her head on his chest. "I don't fully trust myself. This way we can't get carried away."

"Hardly any cocoa. A bed for one. No sex in my immediate future." Albus bestowed a kiss on her bowed head. "Small prices to pay for future happiness."

Minerva pulled out of the comfort of his embrace and rummage in her robe pockets. "I'm so glad you understand." She out a small package towards Albus. "Here's yours."

"My what?" Albus' voice rose a full octave as acceptance of the situation was replaced by panic and dismay.

"Your chastity belt." Words failed Albus entirely at this point. Minerva's words barely registered. "It's quite comfortable, so Pernelle tells me." Minerva waited in vain for some sign of acquiescence from her husband. He was mute on all topics.Minerva forged on ahead. "She and Nicholas had to abide by the requirements themselves you know. Absolute sexual abstinence. No interactions with another person and no ... er... self satisfaction."

Albus collapsed into his chair. Still not an utterance had passed his lips.

"Think of it as a modified codpiece. Let's go to your rooms and try it on, shall we?" Minerva said. "I've adjusted it for your measurements."

Albus let himself be led back to his quarters, meek as a newborn lamb. If his tongue was numb, his mind was brimming with ideas and promises. He vowed to use his next hundred years to pay Nicholas back in kind, with interest, compounded.

* * *

Professor Snape sat in an armchair by the window in full glare of the afternoon sun flipping through several sheafs of paper. On the window ledge he had positioned several mirrors angled to reflect more light onto his sallow face. A light tan was too much to hope for but a shade darker than pale was not out of the realm of possibility. On his left was a table laden with pastries and snacks. Absently his hand would reach out for a delectable scone while his eyes scanned the papers before him. He was heard to mutter a phrase now and again along the lines of "At least public starvation is no longer the punishment of choice." 

If anyone else in the strangely crowded staff room heard his comments, it was not likely. They all had their own problems today. Professor Sprout stared longingly at the desert laden tray at Snape's disposal. She shook her head at the utter hopelessness of the situation. She sighed before taking a bite off the celery stick held in her hand. She turned her attention back to what Professor Flitwick was nattering on about to her.

"I'll trade you Thursday for Tuesday."

"I don't know, Filius. Hooch has put in a competitive bid for my Tuesday and her Friday."

"But ... but ... I need to have my physical as early as possible. I can't last much longer."

"It's Sunday already, you don't have much longer to wait. Besides, I need to push mine off as late as possible if I am to reach my weight loss quota."

Flitwick painted a wide smile on his face. His next words were sweetly said. "You're doing wonderfully well from what I can see, Cera. I'm sure Poppy will pass you with flying colors whether your appointment is earlier or later."

Cera rolled her eyes. "Spare me the flattery."

Flitwick lunged across the table until he was nearly nose to nose with his colleague. "Do you have any idea how many points I've taken off in the last few days? I took points off my OWN house, Cera, and for what! What? Studying too much, that's what!"

Cera waved the celery stick in front of the tiny professor. "We're all suffering, Filius."

Flitwick kneeled on the tabletop, a forlorn figure with head bowed and eyes sorrowful. "You see before you a desperate man. I need your Tuesday, Cera. Whatever you want, it's yours."

"Friday works to my advantage far better than Tuesday. Don't take my refusal personally."

"You have all the compassion of a plank of wood." Flitwick stood up on the table, crossed his arms and stamped his foot. "Cutting off a man's coffee is a ... a wizard rights violation! I ought to report Poppy to ... to something, someone immediately."

Snape's words carried to their ears. "Human sacrifice seems a tad extreme, especially for a first offense."

Flitwick paced in circles around the table. "Without coffee, I might as well be dead!"

"You are not handling this withdrawal business very well are you?"

"I was given no warning whatsoever."

"Your last medical recommendation was last year - switch to a less potent mix, cut down to twice a day.."

"I tried! It was impossible!" Flitwick swallowed then looked wistful. "I miss the aroma, the smooth texture of my special blend and the-"

"Smooth? Your special blend would peel bark off trees."

"- the welcoming heat as it courses down my throat. I cannot describe the rush of clarity it brings to my mind."

"That's just the rise in your blood pressure, Filius."

"Or the despair when I am without!"

"Sugar can only take you so far."

"Have these people never heard of veritaserum?" Snape wondered out loud. "Such primiitve interrogation techniques."

Cera put down her celery stick and stood up. "At least caffeine intake is under your control, which is something I cannot say about my little fellows."

Flitwick stopped pacing. "Fellows?"

It was Cera's turn to pace. "I mean it would be ideal if one were able to give instructions. Put a bit here, take a bit off there and put it elsewhere. But no, oh no! They go off and do whatever pleases them. Never mind my needs, my preferences, my body type!"

"Fellows?" Flitwick repeated.

"Do you ever wonder, Filius, why women take so long getting ready or take their time in the facilities?"

Flitwick was not liking the mad gleam in the herbology professor's eyes. "I can't say that I have, Cera."

"I'll tell you why! We take our time because we never know what the little buggers will do. We have to be on our guard at all times! That's why!"

"Er, buggers? Fellows?"

"HORMONES!" Cera was truly working herself into a right fit. "A fellow, one called Estro, for example, has permanent lodgings in my hips. He loves to redecorate. I never know when he decides that a little extra padding is necessary. I have to watch what I eat, how much exercise I get, how much sleep. One slip, one moment of inattention, and Estro has his padding in place faster than a goblin can count money."

Flitwick clucked under his breath. "Really, Cera, my gender is not responsible for all the ills of this world."

Cera narrowed her eyes at him. "What exactly are you saying?"

"You've lived your whole life with hormones. It's natural. It's not like it's being taken away." Flitwick scoffed. "Your weight gain is entirely your fault for letting yourself go." Too late he realized his mistake. Men should never speak everything on their minds when in the company of the fairer sex.. It was always best to stay silent and nod approvingly. He backed off a step but being on top of the table, he was at a distinct disadvantage. Alas, retreat was not an option.

Sprout stood stock still. The hiss of slowly released breath could be heard. "Say goodbye to Tuesday, Filius." She stormed out of the staff room.

"Guilty until a loophole can be found. Innocent until a bribe fails. Hmm, legal systems are all the same." Snape said to no one in particular. He noticed the sinking sun and adjusted his mirrors accordingly. As Flitwick left the staff room, Snape turned another page in his study of Ecuador's various laws specifically those laws covering smuggling and customs violations.

"Note to self, go to Gringotts, convert some galleons before trip. No, wait, I can charge this from Albus' account. After all, bribe money is an expense."

It is said that pride goeth before a fall. What of greed?

* * *

Author's Note: Chapter dedicated to mugglemin. She knows what for. I hope this one lives up to expectations. 


	5. Where Wizards and Witches Fear to Tread

**Chapter Five**

_**Where Wizards and Witches Fear to Tread**_

Albus paced in his quarters from his bed to the far window and back. As was his habit he was thinking out loud. "I am supposed to be a great strategies, am I not? There must be a way to turn this situation to my advantage."

Fawkes shuffled his clawed feet on his perch. He knew better than to distract his human when he was perambulating and percolating plans. One never knew what the outcome of such an interruption could be.

"Cheating is a time-honored tradition. Besides who would know besides me?" Albus stroked his beard. "A crumb of comfort and ease in my time of ... of travail."

Fawkes gave a cautious high-pitched chirp.

"Minerva? Why else did she send me a note saying to expect her this morning. Neither one of us is used to prolonged absence from the other."

_Rap. Rap. Rap_. The door opened and the woman in question sidled in and gave Albus a peck on the cheek. She pulled away before his hands could fully encircle her waist.

"Good morning, Albus. I just came to -"

"To tell me how much you've missed me and how you long to be ravished." Albus reached for her yet again.

Minerva brightened at his teasing. "I've missed you too. Terribly."

"It's only dawn and our physicals are at midday. Timing is very good."

"Hmm, quite." Minerva smoothed her hand down the front of his purple robes. "I've removed mine already."

Albus perked up in every possible literal way. His hand slid downwards and confirmed the lack of Minerva's telltale chastity belt. "As usual ten steps ahead of me, my dear."

Minerva's fingers made short work of opening Albus' robes. "Let's remove yours shall we."

"By all means," Albus said. In a matter of minutes, he welcomed the feeling of being a free man once more. "Shall we take advantage of this respite from our required labors?"

"A forthnight, Albus, remember? We have a few days left."

"But why else did you remove our devices?"

"Strap marks, Albus. We remove them now and there won't be any marks for Poppy to find. You know how thorough she can be. One more thing." Minerva waved her wand. Albus felt a tingle of energy course down his body.

"Was that truly necessary, darling? Obviously, your trust is me is nonexistent." Albus' voice dripped with sarcasm.

"It's not a matter of trust, my love. I know you have no willpower whatsoever in this matter."

Fawkes squawked loudly.

Albus glared at his familiar. "I am a grown man not a child."

"I don't like it either but it is for a good cause. We shall resume our devices after our examinations today." Minerva kissed his cheek lightly before leaving his quarters.

The master strategist sat in his armchair. His dejection and disgust complimenting the picture of utter defeat he epitomized. "A deflating charm, Fawkes. How ... how devious. This is what happens when a witch knows you too well."

* * *

The infirmary door opened and the immediately issued command was firm and peremptory. "Assume the position!"

"I beg your pardon!" Minerva exclaimed amused.

Sitting behind her desk, Poppy looked up to see her next physical appointment. "I'm sorry, Minerva. It has been quite a day and barely passed noon."

"I can tell." Minerva removed her outer robe and sat down on the examination cot. "Have you had many difficult patients?"

"Petty, self-indulgent, obstructive and more than a few in complete denial." Poppy chuckled. "Self-discipline is not a common trait." Poppy cast several charms and spells. Strands of colorful energies wound and weaved around Minerva's form.

"Physicals are not welcomed, Poppy. It's like a reminder of our mortality."

"Given some of the staff's peculiar vices, their mortality will be very short indeed." Poppy's quill danced across the parchment on her desk recording Minerva's test results.

"Most vices are not life-threatening and give some enjoyment in return."

"Anything, anything at all, when taken to extremes can be harmful." Poppy waved her wand once more. Minerva felt a curious jab on her arm. "There, that is the latest magical influenza vaccination, Minerva."

Minerva rubbed her upper arm. "I'm hardly sick, Poppy. I doubt I have need of this."

"It is a simple precaution. Report to me any side effects you may experience." Poppy put her wand back on her table. "As always you are in optimal physical health - excellent muscle tone, everything at your normal levels -"

"If that is all then, I shall return to my duties." Minerva began to slip into her outer robes.

Poppy crossed her arms. That was a sure signal that the physical was not over. "As I was saying, normal but for estrogen and a few other chemical imbalances. Have you been feeling frustrated lately?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Minerva exclaimed.

"I am the health practioner charged with your health and welfare, Minerva McGonagall. Now answer the question. Frustrated lately?"

"Yes." Minerva fastened her robe anxious to be out of the infirmary. "How did you know that?"

"Imbalances in the body can be interpreted as symptoms of physical and non-physical conditions. Mental health and physical well being go hand in hand." Poppy glanced at her quill to make sure it was still recording her notes. "I suppose you have also been somewhat restless recently?"

Minerva sighed. "Yes. Surely that is a normal reaction."

"Witches in your age group and, ahem, life circumstances, are prone to depression. Frustration and restlessness are early warning signs of a -"

"I assure you I am not the least bit depressed." Minerva interrupted.

"Have you given some thought to my past suggestions?"

"You have made so many which ones in particular do you refer to?" Minerva asked with an arch to her brow.

"There's another symptom. Increased sensitivity to criticism." Poppy remarked. "Romance, intimate companionship, adventure, excitement. Something to shake you from the doldrums of your life. I mean you're not Hogwarts' own vestal virgin are you?"

Minerva sucked in her breath and pursed her lips lest she erupt with an ill-timed revelation or two or three.

Poppy droned on. "You're not unattractive after all. You've not let yourself go. Find yourself a willing wizard. Nothing like a good shag to raise your heart rate and hormone levels."

Minerva cleared her throat before responding. "I shall endeavor to follow your advice, Poppy, as soon as I may."

"You promise?"

"Absolutely. Thoroughly. My word as a McGonagall. If that is all, good day, Poppy." Minerva swept out of the infirmary with her head held high.

Poppy reviewed the parchment listing Minerva's test results. Though not as effective as veritaserum, the mediwitch's recording charm was good enough to detect superficial lies in the patient's responses and feelings. Frustration Positive. Restlessness Positive. Hypersensitivity Positive.

Poppy said out loud dictating to the recording quill. "Begin notes. Whatever is going on here at the school Minerva is not involved. Her physical results are the usual. Hardly a variation from year to year. Physical condition optimal and above the norms for her age group for which I attribute to cross effects from her animagi transformations. Her emotional state continues to be a concern however. In my professional opinion, the patient is at a crossroads in her life. It is not too late to change her fortunes and prospects. End notes."

She rolled up Minerva's parchment, placed it inside a locked drawer and set a fresh parchment on her desk in readiness for her next appointment.

* * *

Later that evening in the headmaster's office, the rustling of paper and the scratchings of quill on paper could be heard interrupted intermittently by the clinking of glass and china. The portraits watched the proceedings intently but made no comment. Occasionally Phineas Nigellus would nod approvingly. Dilys Derwent rolled her eyes quite frequently. Their focus was on the five people seated around a large round table. Hanging in midair was a large world map.

"Our main problem will be the transport phase between Ecuador and here on the return trip." Minerva pointed to the map. "I have researched possible apparition points but none are suitable to our needs. Either there are too many steps or the locations are too public. And, of course, the size of the package and the need for secrecy must be considered."

"Time will also be a factor, Minerva. The stasis spell will only last 24 hours. The plant must be replanted within that time window. The plant will be useless after 24 hours." Cera Sprout clarified.

"I believe the solution I have devised will work for our purposes." Minerva tapped the map once with her wand. "Travel by sea is out as it would be too slow. Travel by apparition is not feasible coming back. The only viable option is to travel by air."

"What are you proposing, Minerva?" Snape asked. "Shall we sneak the plant onto a cargo plane?"

Albus shot an amused glance at his deputy before replying. "Not quite but close."

"I've found a flight schedule that fits our needs." Minerva took a deep breath before continuing. "From Ecuador our first destination will be Bogota, Colombia. From there we take an international flight to Atlanta, Georgia which is in the the United States. Then Atlanta to Heathrow. Elapsed flight time is 15 hours. Assuming that it will take us 4 hours to get from Ecuador to Bogota by air that gives us 4 hours leftover."

"I've always wanted to try an airplane flight." Flitwick mused.

Minerva shook her head. "We won't be traveling as passengers."

"Cargo!?" Snape declared. "I categorically refuse!"

"No, not cargo," Minerva whipped back. "We cannot risk the paper trail that booking seats would entail. And we absolutely cannot risk adding the considerable weight of the plant to any cargo manifest. The muggles would certainly notice the weight difference."

"Then how are we to do this?" Sprout asked.

Minerva took a deep breath and mustered her most authoritative voice. "We will instead be traveling on the superstructure of the ... the airplane. On top of the airplane to be exact."

Silence. The heads of houses sat speechless with mouths hanging open and eyes dazed by the appalling vision that was surely playing out in their minds - their poor selves buffetted by ferocious winds, tormented by icy temperatures, set upon by brutal atmospheric thunderstorms. There were very good reasons why the wizarding world preferred apparition or floo travel.

Sensing an imminent mutiny, Albus stood up and addressed the group. "I realize that traveling in such a manner will be hazardous. Therefore, I have devised a charm that will keep you all in warmth and comfort for the entire journey. You won't feel a thing I assure you." The headmaster clapped his hands and smiled widely at them all breaking through their stunned silence.. "This has been a splendid strategy session. Why don't we adjourn to our respective patrols."

Dumbledore and the heads of houses filed out. The door had barely closed when the portraits began to mutter and chatter.

"This is unprecedented I tell you!" a portrait on the west wall shouted.

"An abuse of power I say!" shouted another portrait. "Gross abuse!"

"What good can come out of this?" asked a crone of a witch.

"Would anyone know if the Ministry has twigged to Dumbledore's latest project?" Armando asked.

"I do not believe so," replied Dilys Derwent.

"This is an entirely private effort concerning the Ministry not at all," Phineus said to all who would listen. "The planning is proceeding well and carefully. What could go wrong?"

* * *

Molly Weasley turned the dial on her wireless set. She spared a glance at her clock and sighed contentedly. Today the clock didn't point at mortal peril for anyone in her family. Her husband's indicator was set on "Traveling." She smiled when she heard the telltale sound of an apparition nearby. Arthur Weaseley bustled into the room. He looked far too exhausted for a typical late evening.

"Arthur, are you ill?" Molly felt her husband's forehead. "A nice cup of tea will set you to rights. I've kept dinner warm."

"Firewhisky would be better, Molly dear." Arthur said landing in a heap on the sofa. "I've had quite a day. Ten raids in all."

Mrs. Weasley went off to get the firewhiskey as the wireless droned on. "As a public service, the Department of Wizarding Health and Medicine has released an announcement regarding the latest outbreak of magical influenza. In the best interests of public health and safety, the Department urges everyone to apply for a vaccination as soon as possible to protect themselves and their families. This year's influenza has been shown to be more potent than past outbreaks. Now, here's Fingol Macashen with the weather."

* * *

Author's Notes:

Long Suffering Waiting Readers - I hope this chapter lives up to expectations. I am updating my other WIPs as I want to finish and eager to resume writing original material.

Mugglemin - To answer your review question from the other story, I've been to Dorset, yes, and lots of other places besides. My life has turned 360 deg several times, personally, professionally and everything else in between. My life is more crowded than ever and I'm happier for it strangely enough. The Chinese have a saying: May you live in interesting times. I don't know whether that is meant to be a blessing or a curse but I'll take it either way. Makes for a non-boring life.

Jack - Nag, nag, nag. That's all I get. Thanks for the inspiring lines which I've shamelessly used above.


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